Fifty Shades of AU
by SiriusMarauderFan
Summary: 50 one shots, each taking place in a different alternate universe.
1. Superhero AU

**Author's Note:** Written for…

10 Characters, 10 Prompts. _Prompts:_ Blaise Zabini, weigh

Russian Roulette Challenge. _Prompt:_ Hermione/Blaise

AU Battle Competition. _Prompts:_ Superhero!AU, petite

Open Category Competition 2. _Category:_ AU

Fifty Shades of… Challenge.

**Summary:** Superhero!AU

Blaise Zabini is a rising star in London's criminal underground. Hermione Granger is a mild-mannered curator. Both are hiding life-changing secrets that are revealed when a robbery goes wrong.

**The Wrong Side**

Blaise always loved visiting the Museum of London. As a boy, he'd go there every weekend with his mum. It was their special time together, but that changed when she married Devon. Blaise hated him, and that hatred tended to bring out … some unusual talents that eventually landed him his current title of best up-and-coming thief.

He loved going to the museum even more since the new curator began working there the previous year. She was pretty and smart and young. She couldn't have been older than twenty-one and already in charge of Egyptian artifacts, Blaise's favorite collection.

He sighed as he looked at a priceless vase in its glass case. He would miss coming here every day and enjoying the way the light shone on its golden surface. He looked around and the other visitors to the collection, aimlessly wandering around, and thought of how none of them truly appreciated this vase's beauty. Neither did the man in whose private collection the vase would soon be sitting.

"Just one big score," Nott had said. "That's all you need to rocket you into the big leagues."

Blaise agreed, because he was sick of doing petty home robberies, and muggings weren't really his style. So Nott had found a man who was searching for priceless collectibles, and was willing for pay more for them than Blaise would make in an entire year of working at the diner.

He waited until nightfall to return. The lock was easy enough to get passed, and then he was in the museum entrance. He tried to be quiet, gently closing the door behind him. He knew there was at least one security guard around somewhere, and he didn't fancy being caught – not that the guards could see him if they tried.

Blaise had the habit of being overlooked when he wanted to be. He called it skill, but it was more than that. If he kept to the shadows and wished it hard enough, no one would see him. It worked just as well on security cameras, there was pretty much nothing that could stop him.

He skulked along in the darkness until he reached the collection of Egyptian artifacts. It would be risky, he knew, to step into the light. Riskier still to stand under it and set the alarm off, but it was the only way to get the vase.

But he hadn't even stepped out of the dark corner when a wrench was thrown into his plans when she walked in – the new curator. He stood completely still, closing his eyes and willing her not to see him. Surely he could wait until she was gone before stealing the vase…

"What do you think you're doing?"

He'd never heard her speak before, and he was a bit surprised by how gentle it was, especially considering she'd just discovered him trying to steal from her collection.

He opened his eyes and frowned at her. The petite woman stood maybe twenty feet away, and he couldn't see the doorway at all from his position so it was possible she was talking to someone in the hallway, but her eyes were focused on him.

"I've seen you in here before, haven't I?" she asked, stepping slowly closer. "You come here almost every day."

"Er, yeah. I'm a huge fan of the collection." He came out of the shadows, quickly thinking up an excuse. He held out a hand to shake hers. "Blaise Zabini. I might have, uh, stayed after-hours to tell you how much I admire your work."

She raised an eyebrow. "Hermione Granger. I appreciate your compliment, Mr. Zabini. But tell me, how did you know I'd be working so late?"

"Intuition?"

"You're here to steal something, aren't you?"

Blaise laughed. "What gives you that idea?"

"I'm a pretty good judge of character. Also you were hiding in a dark corner in a museum after closing time … it doesn't exactly take a genius, which I am."

"Well, aren't we full of ourselves."

"I'm really not."

"Why aren't you running? Sounding an alarm?"

She smiled at him and showed him the phone in her hand. She already had the police dialed, all she had to do was press call.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Waiting for you to give me a reason to call the authorities."

"Isn't attempting to steal from you enough cause?"

Hermione shrugged. "You got passed the guards, and the security cameras. They're all top of the line. I want to know how you did it."

"What's it matter," he asked, annoyed. He'd just messed up his life-changing score and he was going pay severely for it. By the time they let him out of prison, Nott and his other contacts wouldn't want anything to do with him.

"Humor me," Hermione said, taking a seat on one of the benches that lined the museum. "I'm a very curious person, you know."

He didn't see the point in lying to her. His talent wouldn't do him any good in jail.

"I have this … ability. I can blend into shadows, go unseen, if I want to."

She didn't react like he expected. He'd never told anyone about his abilities – not even him mum, but he always assumed someone would be pretty skeptical if he did tell them.

Hermione seemed too calm. She stared at him unblinking, as if he was telling her something she already knew.

"This works on cameras as well?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever thought of using it for another purpose?"

"How could this possibly be useful?"

"Police, for starters. Spies. Probably better pay than whatever you get for stealing worthless vases."

"It's not worthless … wait. How did you know I'm after the vase?"

She smirked. "Can you keep a secret?"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "I'm a thief. I have plenty of secrets of my own, you know."

"Fair enough." She nodded her head in the direction of the vase. "It's a fake."

"You're lying."

"I'm not, actually. The real vase was stolen three months ago, just before I got here. That's why they hired me."

"So, what, you're some sort of detective?"

"I could be, if I wanted to be. I'm more like a guard. I look out for any potential thieves. I marked you as a suspect weeks ago. That's why I'm here now."

"You're not a curator?"

"Not really. I did a little research to take on the job though." She stood and walked over to case containing some old clay bowls, putting her phone away as she did. "I can tell you anything you want about any item in this room." She smiled at him. "You have your talents and I have mine. I'm incredibly clever, or so everyone keeps telling me. That's probably why I can see through your ability."

"Do you do this often? Guard stuff, I mean?"

She shrugged again, returning to the bench. "Sometimes. It pays well. Most of the time I take care of things before people ask me to – before they realize their belongings have been stolen."

"Sounds interesting."

"I could use a partner."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You have a choice. Either you stay here while I call the authorities, or you join me. We'd make quite the team, I think."

"You've got to be joking."

"What's the problem, Blaise? Do you want to be a thief your whole life?"

He bit his lip, weighing his options. His career as a criminal was basically over and he knew it. The other route didn't seem so bad, really. Getting to use his abilities and work with a pretty girl all day?

"Okay, I'm in."

Hermione grinned. "We're going to be unbeatable."


	2. Blind Date AU

**Author's Note:** Written for…

Weekly AU Competition. _Prompt:_ Blind Date!AU

Shipper's Dictionary Challenge. _Prompt:_ Artist's Flame (Dean/Ginny)

Amateur Divination Challenge. _Prompt:_ paper

**Summary: **Blind Date!AU

After years of bad luck with guys, Ginny allows Hermione to set her up on a date with Dean Thomas.

**Artist's Flame**

There was a time in Ginny's youth when she imagined finding her Prince Charming and having a bunch of children and living happily ever after. But fifteen years and more than a dozen failed relationships had put those dreams to rest.

And anyway, what did her parents need with more grandchildren? They already had more than they could remember. Maybe Charlie had the right idea after all, swearing off marriage. Then again, Charlie was away in Romania and didn't have to listen to their mother's nagging.

"You can't give up so easily," Hermione told her as Ginny explained her desire to give up dating after a string of failed first dates. "Look at me and Ron – it took us forever to get together, but now that we are, we've never been happier."

"I don't know, 'Mione. I'm just tired of trying to find a decent guy. Every time I think I've succeeded, he turns out to be a jerk."

"Not all men are bad. In fact, Ron and I have this friend-"

"No. Hermione, _no_."

"What? I haven't said anything yet."

Ginny quirked an eyebrow. "We've been over this before, Hermione. No more blind dates."

"Oh, come on, just meet him!"

"No. I'm through with you and Ron and Mum and everyone else trying to fix me up the first available guy you find."

"They weren't all bad."

"Remember Michael?"

Hermione winced at the memory of her sister-in-law's most recent serious relationship, which had ended a year before. "Okay, Michael was a bit…"

"Whiney? Conceited?"

"Maybe a little," the brunette conceded. "But Dean's different. Michael was all Ron's idea. I've actually met Dean. He's sweet and clever. He's an artist."

"Hermione…"

"Ginny, you spend all your time at work and football games. This is the only way you're going to meet anyone. Just let us help you."

Ginny sighed. If she knew her friend and brother as well as she thought she did, she knew they wouldn't quit pestering her until she agreed to go out with the mysterious artist friend of theirs.

"Fine," she spat, and Hermione immediately fished her cellphone out of her purse to call Ron and set up the date.

:-:

Ginny checked her watch for the third time in a half hour, impatiently tapping her fingernails on her wine glass.

They were supposed to meet at the restaurant at exactly seven-thirty. She'd even arrived ten minutes early to insure she wasn't late. Apparently Dean didn't have the same regard for time constraints.

She was just about to leave when a tall, black man rushed to her table.

"Ginny?" he asked between gasps for breath. She nodded and he stuck out a hand to shake hers. "Dean Thomas. Sorry I'm late. Had to work late, and … traffic," he huffed, taking the empty seat at her table.

"That's all right. I haven't been waiting long," she lied. She toyed with the idea of telling him off just to end the date, but he _was_ cute.

They were quiet, stealing glances at each other over the tops of their menus. When the waitress left with their orders, they had no choice but to talk.

"So … Hermione tells me you're an artist?"

Dean let out a nervous sort of giggle. "She's exaggerating, I'm afraid. I have a bad habit of doodling on my reports."

"Reports?"

"Yeah. I work with Hermione as a career counselor. What about you? I was told you're an athlete. Was that exaggeration as well?"

"Only slightly. I played football in university. Almost went professional, but I didn't think I was good enough. I run a sports column now."

"That's amazing. I'm a huge football fan myself. West Ham."

"West Ham's my team as well!" Ginny said excitedly, grinning.

_Things are going so well_, she thought, and then caught herself. Things always went well in the beginning. He was always handsome and charming, and Ron and Hermione always did a good job of setting her up with someone who had a few things in common with her. It would be enough to get them through a few weeks – maybe a few months if they were lucky, but eventually everything would fall apart.

"Is something wrong?" she suddenly heard him ask. Her eyes met his and she forced herself to look away before she was drawn into their beauty and lost her nerve.

"I'm sorry," she started slowly, twisting her napkin in her lap. "I'm just, sort of…"

"Not used to dating?" he guessed, she laughed.

"No, actually, I'm very familiar with the ins and outs of dating. That's the problem. I've been down this road before with Ron and Hermione."

Dean smirked. "I'm not your first blind date?"

"You're not even the first this month," she sighed. "Look, I'm sorry. I know you just got here and all, but I don't think this is going to work."

He nodded slowly, sipping his water while the waitress dropped off their plates.

"If I asked you a question, would you answer it honestly?" he asked, fishing a pen and spare piece of paper out of his jacket pocket as he spoke.

"I don't see why not."

"Do you like me?"

Ginny pursed her lips. "Yes."

He was scribbling something on the paper that she couldn't see, but he took a split second to look up and grin at her. "Good. I like you too. I'm going to leave now, since you've decided that you want this to be over, but I want you to do me a favor." He straightened up and began folding the paper back up until it was the size of a business card, then held it out to her. "When your next first date doesn't go well, and you're sitting at home wishing you'd given this a chance, give me a call. I have season tickets to West Ham games." He winked at her, slipping the paper in her hand and rushing off without a goodbye.

She sat in a confused daze for a few moments before she opened the paper up. His name and phone number was at the top of the page, but her eyes were drawn to the bottom, where he'd sketched a likeness of her – unmistakable even in plain black ink. Underneath, he'd scribbled '_for my flame.'_

Ginny bit her lip as she stared at it, considering the idea that maybe she'd been a little rash in sending the artist away.


	3. Support Group AU

**Author's Note:** Written for…

All You Need Is Love Competition. _Pairing:_ Harry/Tom

Weekly AU Competition. _Prompt:_ Support Group!AU

Triwizard Tournament Competition. _Prompt:_ confidence

**Summary:** Support Group!AU

On the anniversary of a school shooting, the leader of a small support group reflects on how good can come from bad situations. Harry/Tom

**From Darkness**

Harry didn't know what he expected when he started the group, but to be fair he hadn't intended to start the group in the beginning. It had all been an accident; a snowball effect when the friends he was counseling started to invite more friends over to his flat every week. Before he knew it, the teenager was renting out a church basement to accommodate the amount of people he was counseling.

When the second of May 1999 rolled around – the one-year anniversary of the school shooting that brought them all together – Harry knew it was going to be a long night. Every part of him was screaming to cancel the meeting that night. Lock the door, shut the blinds, and grieve in peace. But that had been all he'd done before the support group began, and he owed it to all those people to go through with the meeting.

"Thank you all for coming," he greeted later that night, standing in front of fifty-five full seats. "I know this is a hard night for us all, but I'm glad to see so many of you here, new faces and old." He took a quick glance around the room, doing a silent roll call. After the meeting, he'd make calls to the regulars who hadn't bothered to show up. The absence of George – a man who had become something like a brother to Harry – worried him the most.

"I'd like to start this evening with a memorial of sorts. I thought, with it being the anniversary, and since we have new people here, maybe some of you would like to talk about the people we lost that night?" A few hands shot up immediately and he called on the first person he saw. "Parvati, would you like to start us off, please?"

He took his seat and listened to his former classmate talk about how much her friend, Lavender, had meant to her. About halfway through he felt his mind wandering and locked eyes with the middle-aged man sitting in the chair directly across from him.

Tom started coming to the group a month in and had missed a total of four meetings in the ten months since. He had once been a teacher at the school in question, though never one of Harry's. If the nineteen-year-old was being honest with himself, he'd always had a small crush on the professor, watching him in the hallways and during lunch. He never imagined the man unexpectedly showing up at his flat for a meeting and describing to everyone there how his life had been ruined with the shooting – his nephew dead, his career over. He stated at least a dozen times in those first weeks how the support group was the only thing keeping him going.

It took Harry five months to get up the confidence to ask him out, and was thoroughly surprised when Tom agreed to stay for a drink after a meeting. Things had escalated after that, and maybe they'd gone too fast, maybe their relationship was built on a mutual need for company, but Harry thought seeing Tom smile again was worth it.

It was the light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. No one would care if they went public of course, but they kept it a secret just the same. The only hint they gave to their relationship was a wink or smile every now and again. If anyone ever saw or suspected – and Harry thought that maybe Hermione had – they never said a word.

"For many of us, we will look back on this year as the worst of our lives," the young man began when the meeting was coming to a close. "We have been through so much pain and heartbreak. Together, we've overcome a lot, and I hope that we can continue to help each other through whatever obstacles may arise in the coming years."

His eyes flicked to his boyfriend as he said it and was pleased to see Tom smile and nod along.


	4. Pirate AU

**Author's Note:** Written for Raybe for entering the Love in Time Challenge.

Also written for the AU Battle Competition. _Prompts:_ Pirate!AU, Lucius/Harry

Open Category Competition 2. _Category:_ Cross-Gen

Lamia's Cross-Gen Competition.

**Summary:** Pirate!AU

Lucius is the Captain of the pirate ship _Pure Silver_. Harry is a cabin boy on a ship Lucius intends to sink. Pre-Lucius/Harry.

Compromise

Lucius stared at the horizon, taking in gulps of the sea air and trying to calm himself after another failure.

"We'll get them next time," said a voice to his left. He turned to glare at his first mate. Severus may have been the closest thing he'd had to a friend since they were cabin mates together all those years ago, but that didn't mean Lucius was above throwing him overboard.

"Do you know how many times we've lost that ship, Severus? I believe the last time I counted I came to the number forty-two, but I could be wrong. Perhaps you should go ask the crew – I'm sure they all know. They're probably laughing at my incompetence below deck right now."

Lucius hated to think he'd been made a fool of yet again, but it was true. For seven years he and the crew of the _Pure Silver_ had sought out _The Phoenix_ – the captain of which had killed their own, promoting Lucius to captain and leaving him with a great desire for revenge.

"They know this isn't your fault, Lucius," Severus drawled, rolling his eyes. He was long-used to Lucius' dramatic flair and paranoia. "It was two of the cabin boys – Crabbe and Goyle. They fumbled one of the guns; shot too high."

Lucius growled, gripping the rail until his knuckles turned white. Normally he'd have a very specific punishment for crew members who cost him such a prize, but the cabin boys were second-generation mates aboard the _Silver_, and while they certainly lacked brain cells, both of their fathers were loyal sailors still.

"How is it I inherited such stupidity?" he muttered.

"Captain!" Lucius turned, scowling, entirely willing to accept the loss of a crew member if it meant he got to shoot _something_ today.

"What is it?" he snapped at the sailor.

"Nott just fished a boy from the water. We think he was aboard the _Phoenix_."

Lucius' eyes lit up at the prospects. Finally, some good news!

"Put him in my quarters. I want to see him immediately."

:-:

Harry didn't remember much after the shooting started. He had a vague recollection of being up in the rigging and hearing something snap – then it all went black.

He woke slowly, enjoying the warmth and comfort of a real bed. He thought maybe he'd fallen and hit his head on the deck. It would explain why the captain had allowed him to rest in his own quarters – no one else on the ship had a bed. But it was clear from the moment Harry opened his eyes that he wasn't on the _Phoenix_ anymore.

It was dark in the room with only a single lantern lit by the door, but he knew the Phoenix like the back of his hand – he'd cleaned every inch of it hundreds of times – and this was not his captain's quarters. Nor would his captain have such luxurious green bed coverings.

"Ah, good, you're awake," came a voice from the darkness, startling the boy.

Harry instantly knew the man stepping out of the shadows was a captain. No one else would dare to wear such fine clothes aboard a ship, and their extravagance certainly matched that of the room they were in. Along with his clothes, Harry couldn't help but take in the man's stunning features. His blue eyes were piercing in the darkness, and his golden, hair tied back with a black ribbon, looked far too good for a pirate. The boy's eyes wandered lower, coming to rest on the captain's left forearm where a hint of a tattoo could be seen…

"You're Captain Malfoy," Harry concluded.

The man smiled, bowing gracefully before coming to sit at the foot of the bed as Harry scooted up, pushing his back against the headboard.

"I'm afraid I don't know your name, lad."

Harry debated not telling him, or lying, but in the end decided he had nothing to lose by giving the man what he wanted.

"Harry Potter. I'm a cabin boy aboard the _Phoenix_."

"I'm afraid you were, past tense," Captain Malfoy told him gently. "You had a nasty fall. My crew found you in the water."

"And I'm sure your crew had nothing to do with the cannon fire that put me there in the first place?"

The Captain smiled at him. "You're a clever boy. How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"And you've been a cabin boy for how long?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. Just because the man was charming and hospitable and unnaturally handsome, did not mean he trusted him blindly. "All my life." The statement caused the Captain to tilt his head questioningly and Harry felt the need to elaborate. "I was born aboard the _Phoenix_. My parents were sailors, but they died when I was a baby. Captain Dumbledore was nice enough to let me stay and the crew raised me."

"And yet they left you to die in the freezing ocean."

"They must have missed me falling, what with you trying to blow holes in the ship."

"Yes, I suppose you're right, I am a tad guilty. Still, I wouldn't have tried quite so hard to sink them had I known they had such … _handsome _young sailor aboard."

Harry thought perhaps he'd misheard the Captain and wanted to question it when the man continued.

"Although you must understand, I attacked as revenged. Seven years ago Dumbledore killed my own captain in cold blood. It has been the _Silver_'s mission ever since to return the favor."

"Captain Dumbledore would never do such a thing."

"Ah, I understand your hesitation to believe it. Captain Riddle was like a father to me, I imagine it's much the same for you and your captain."

Harry didn't answer. He slid off of the bed and crossed the room, feeling Malfoy's eyes on him the whole time. When he turned around, the captain pretended to be examining a stain on his coat instead of watching the boy.

"Why am I here? Why didn't you leave me in the water or throw me in the brig? Aren't I your enemy?"

"I'd much prefer we work on the same side," Lucius said smoothly, giving the boy a small smile. "You see, your old ship got away, and I need to know where they're going. Where would Dumbledore go?"

"Why should I tell you? You're only going to try and kill him again."

"True, I'm afraid. But I would hurt you. You're more than welcome to stay here, Harry. We could use an intelligent cabin boy. And with a little time, I'm sure you'll rise in rank quickly. I can't imagine why Dumbledore never promoted you. Born at sea and still a cabin boy at eighteen? Nonsense."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to give up my ship for a job offer. You'll have to kill me."

"No," Lucius said, perhaps a bit too quickly. He backtracked. "I'd rather we not lose you. Your services really are much needed here."

Harry smirked, coming to stand in front of the captain, arms crossed over his bare chest. "And you're sure it's my services you're after, are you?"

Lucius gulped and nodded briefly, not trusting himself to speak when the young man stood before him in nothing put a pair of trousers on loan from another sailor.

"I'll make a deal with you," Harry went on. "A compromise, if you will. I'll stay aboard the _Silver_ and serve under you, but only if you swear to never go after Captain Dumbledore again."

It was a hard sacrifice to make. Lucius knew the crew would be angry with him for even considering abandoning their seven-year mission, but he'd never been so tempted in all his life. A handsome young man like the one before him was certainly hard to find when you spent eleven months of the year at sea, and he was eager to keep him around for as long as possible.

"Do we have a deal or not, _Captain_?"

Lucius grinned in spite of himself.

To hell with the crew – this boy was worth a hundred of them.


	5. Victorian AU

**Author's Note: **Written for…

Ludo Game Challenge. _Prompts:_ _melted chocolate, party, "I found him face down in a puddle"_

_A Demigod Wizard's Duel at the Hunger Games Competition. __Task:_Write a romance fic about your Rep. (Sirius) _Prompts:_ springtime, strawberries, "Do you really think that?"

Rock-Paper-Scissors Challenge. _Prompt: _"Are you taking his side over mine?"

Pick a Number Challenge. _Prompts:_ Lily/Sirius, Historical!AU

The Title Challenge II. _Title:_ Headed For Happiness

**Summary:** Victorian!AU

Lily meets a strange man outside her sister's wedding. Lily/Sirius.

**Headed For Happiness**

The wedding of Vernon Dursley and Petunia Evans was quite possibly the most extravagant affair of the year and looked forward to by the hundred and fifty friends and family members who were honored to receive an invitation.

Lily probably should have been one of them. The wedding was the end of six months of staying up late to sew and alter the bridesmaid dresses, a year of seeing her sister through tedious wedding preparations, and nineteen years of having to share a bedroom with manic Petunia. Plus, if her parents were to be believed, it was the night she'd meet her future husband.

Despite everything seemingly going for her, Lily couldn't stand to be in the same room as the happy couple for more than a couple of minutes, lest she get the urge to tell the groom off for being a pompous idiot.

She managed to escape outside after dinner, just as the speeches were starting. She couldn't bear to listen to her father talk about how happy he was for Vernon to join the family.

It was a cool evening. It had been a cloudy and rainy for most of the morning and afternoon, but Lily had always loved springtime. She sat on the front steps of the house, nibbling on a strawberry with melted chocolate that she'd snatched on her way out the door.

She'd only been outside for half a minute when she heard a groan. It was low and she could barely hear it above the music from inside, but it sounded human. She followed it down the road a bit until she reached what she would have thought was a dead body were it not from the near-constant moaning.

"Oh gosh, are you okay?" She rushed to the man's side and rolled him over to get a look at his face. It was only after she touched him that she realized he was sopping wet from lying in a puddle.

"Tripped," he mumbled, running a hand through his shaggy black hair.

She thought he might be homeless with the long, dirty hair and disheveled clothes and the slight whiff of alcohol, but the neighborhood never had any problems with vagrants before…

"Lily?"

She met his eyes but didn't see anything familiar in them. Beneath the dirt and grime, she decided he might be handsome.

"I'm sorry, sir, have we met?"

"Lily, it's me, it's…" he heaved a sigh, trying to sit up. He was wobbly; drunk, she decided. She had to keep a grip on his arm to keep him from falling over again. "Sirius Black," he finished, searching her face for some sign that she recognized him.

The name was definitely familiar. The Blacks had lived down the street from Lily's house when she was a child. She could still vividly recall Mrs. Black's screech as she called for her boys to come inside. The horrid woman scared every child in the neighborhood except for her eldest, who Lily remembered climbing over fences and hiding in bushes and causing all sorts of trouble. It was easy to see the boy she remembered in his man.

"It's been ages," she breathed, smiling gently. "Where have you been? I heard you ran away…"

"I did!" he nearly shouted. Lily shushed him quickly. It was still early, but she wasn't keen on the idea of having to deal with neighbors right now. He lowered his voice slightly as he continued. "Regulus is dead. Had to come back for the funeral. It's tomorrow."

"Oh, Sirius, I'm so sorry."

He shrugged and repositioned the shirt on his bony shoulders, as if the idea of his brother being dead didn't really bother him so much as sitting in wet clothes.

"Is it a bit chilly, or is it just me?"

Lily bit her lip, looking between Sirius and her house. Her father would be angry; Petunia would throw a fit. But she couldn't leave him out here.

"Come on," she said, trying to pull him to his feet.

"Where are we going?"

She got him up and then dragged him, stumbling, to her house.

"We've got to get you into dry clothes before you catch a cold."

He looked up at the house skeptically. "You're having a party?"

"My sister's wedding. They won't mind you coming in, I promise," she lied, tugging on his sleeve gently.

As expected, Petunia nearly fainted. Everyone else seemed to be leaning more toward bewildered as they watched Lily stumble into the house with the wild-looking man.

"Lily, what on earth?" her father squeaked out.

"It's Sirius Black, Daddy. Orion's older son, remember? I found him face down in a puddle," she explained hastily. "We have to help him – get him some clothes."

Her mother was always good at making the best of every situation. She distracted everyone while Mr. Evans took Sirius upstairs to change.

Lily waited at the bottom of the steps, trying to act as though she wasn't possibly seeing what a grown Sirius Black looked like all cleaned up.

"Lily, dear, can I have a word with you?" Petunia whispered, and didn't wait for an answer to pull her sister into the kitchen and away from all the guests.

"Is something wrong, Tuney?" the younger girl asked sweetly. She prayed the use of her sister's nickname would soften her a bit. No such luck.

"Wrong? You brought a dirty vagrant into the house on my _wedding day_, Lily. What were you thinking?"

"I … he needed help. He would've caught his death if I left him out there."

"He's a runaway and a drunk – death would have been a kindness."

"Petunia, please. His brother just died, he's upset. And everything is fine. The reception is lovely, it hasn't been ruined. Sirius will be gone in a few minutes."

"Are you taking his side over mine?" her sister wailed, sending their mother bustling in.

"Petunia! It's not polite for the bride to hide away from her guests. Now, go mingle. I need to have a word with your sister."

Lily waited until her sister was out of the room before groveling.

"Mum, please, I was just trying to do the right thing-"

"I know, darling, I know. I would have done the same thing," the older woman assured her, brushing back the girl's wild hair.

"You're not upset with me?"

"Of course not. And neither is your sister – not really. She'll calm down after the stress of the wedding is gone, you'll see. And she'll warm up to Sirius in time."

"I'm not so sure. He'll probably be gone again after Regulus' funeral." It was strange how sad it made her to admit that. It wasn't as if she and Sirius had ever been close.

Her mother smiled. "Perhaps he will, or perhaps he'll stay. I can't imagine why he'd want to leave when you and he would make such a marvelous match."

"Mother!" the girl scoffed, but the idea stuck with her. "Do you … really think that?"

"Darling, were I twenty years younger and unmarried, I wouldn't waste any time second guessing my feelings when a man such as Sirius Black nearby and available," she advised, pushing her youngest into the den where the man in question stood in clothes that were a size too big, chatting with Vernon and several of his old school chums.

"Best go save him from boredom, dear."

Lily let out a nervous sort of giggle before rushing off to interrupt them.


	6. Road Trip AU

**Author's Note:** Written for…

Ridiculous Meet-Cute Competition. Situation: "We're sitting next to each other on a ten-hour flight."

PayDay Game Challenge. Prompts: Sirius/Marlene, slippers, "Like a Virgin" by Madonna

Weekly AU Competition. Prompts: road trip!AU

**Summary:** Road Trip!AU

Marlene meets a charming stranger on her way back to England for her sister's wedding. Sirius/Marlene

**Physical Attraction**

It had already been a long day when Marlene stumbled her way onto the plane. It seemed like she was the last one to board as all other rows were packed when she went in search of her seat.

Things only seemed to get worse when she came to a halt at her row and found her seat already filled by a man with long black hair. He was wearing pajama bottoms and fuzzy red slippers, listening to his walk man and humming along with his eyes closed. Marlene thought she recognized the opening chords of a Madonna song coming from the headphones and she smirked.

She tapped his shoulder gently, and he straightened immediately, pulling the headphones off and turning down the sound on his walk man.

"Can I help you?" he asked, meeting her eyes. She was surprised to find that he had an English accent, like her. She supposed that wasn't too hard to find on a flight to London, but she had assumed everyone on board would be tourists.

"I think you're in my seat," she said gently, showing him her ticket. "I specifically asked for a window seat."

He glanced at the ticket and smiled. She hated how much she already liked that smile. "My mistake!" He jumped up and Marlene got out of the way so he could back into the aisle. "Need any help with your bag?"

She had forgotten the small carry-on by her side. "That would be great, thanks."

He hefted the bag easily and slid it into the overhead compartment. Marlene tried not to admire the way his shirt lifted up, revealing hard abs. She scurried into the window seat and fiddled with the seat belt to cover her looking. He plopped down into the seat next to hers, pocketing the walk man.

"I'm Sirius," he said, holding out his hand for her to shake. He was smiling again; it was distracting.

"Marlene McKinnon." His hand lingered on hers longer than was probably necessary and she blushed. "Were you, um, on holiday?"

The plane was starting to take off and Marlene gripped the arm rests tightly, watching the runway fly passed out the window.

"Actually I live in America. I'm just heading back to England to meet my new godson."

He pulled an old polaroid out of his pocket and handed it to her. It had to be at least ten years old, judging by how young Sirius looked in his, with his arm over the shoulders of another young man with dark hair and glasses.

"That's my best friend, James. I ran away about a month after this photo was taken and James' family took me in. I try to make it back to visit with him once a year."

"That's sweet," Marlene said, handing the photo back. "My baby sister's getting married, so I'm sort of obligated to make an appearance."

"Not a happy family?" Sirius guessed.

She shrugged. "Happy enough, just not with me. They're still not happy that I moved to America, or that I'm the only unmarried child. I had a three-hour conversation with my mother about why I wasn't bringing a date to the wedding."

"Alright, so let me ask you, you have a large family, yes?"

"I'm the fourth of five kids."

"So, lots of nieces and nephews?"

Marlene nodded, counting quickly. "Six, with another on the way. Why?"

Sirius smiled sheepishly. "I have to bring a gift for my new godson, and I have less than zero experience with kids, so I have no idea what to get. So I was thinking: as soon as we land, you help me find a suitable gift so I won't get in trouble with the kid's mum, and I can be your plus-one."

Marlene smirked. "Do you really think it's a good idea that I take you to meet my family already?"

"Well, I could take you to meet mine too, if it'll make you feel better. I mean, James and his wife and baby. Not my real family – I like you too much to subject you to that kind of torture."

"I don't know … let me think about it."

Sirius checked his watch and gripped her hand. "Well, you've got about nine and a half hours left to make up your mind. So what's your favorite Madonna song?"


	7. Hotel AU

**Author's Note:** Written for…

Every Wolf Deserves a Star, Wolfstar Competition. _Prompts:_ 5 star hotel, tablet, "I'll give you one last chance. Yes or no?"

Huge TV Show Quotes Bucket Challenge. _Prompt:_ "Life's fragile. You need to stop running, or you're never really living." - _Grace Blood, Skins_

The Beginning and End Challenge. _Prompt:_ "Fly away with me."

Ludo Game Challenge. _Prompts:_ phone call, (emotion) nervous

**Summary:** Hotel!AU

Sirius, world-famous actor, has come to stay at a five-star hotel and falls for the concierge. Wolfstar.

* * *

**Invitations**

"Fly away with me."

"Excuse me?" Remus stepped back from the counter as the absurdly handsome man leaned on it.

The man gave him a bright smile – one that Remus had seen on the cover of half a dozen magazines in the last week. "I asked you to fly away with me. I'm heading to Tahiti for a photo shoot tomorrow, and I'd like you to join me."

"Mr. Black, please…"

"Now, Remus, how many times have I told you to call me Sirius?"

Remus sighed. He wondered how much longer he would have to endure the spoiled actor's advances. When Remus had received the phone call from Sirius' assistant asking to ready a room for him, he'd been told it would only be for a few days while Sirius filmed his cameo in a movie. It had been six months since that call and every day that he stayed in Remus' hotel was another day the tired concierge had to come up with an excuse for why he couldn't fly away with him.

"I really can't, I'm sorry."

Sirius straightened up, frowning. "Remus, please, I've been infatuated by your for months and I … I may not be returning for a while."

"You're checking out?" This was the first Remus had heard of it, and he couldn't deny the relief he felt hearing that Sirius may finally be leaving.

"After Tahiti I'll be flying to New York for audition for a play. If I get the role I won't be returning to London for a few months. So, I'll give you one last chance. Yes or no?"

It took Remus a moment to answer, and he wasn't sure why because he'd firmly made up his mind six months ago and hadn't looked back once.

"I'm sorry, no."

Sirius smiled sadly and nodded. "Well. Thank you for humoring me, then. You've been most accommodating."

Remus watched him head for the elevators and felt a pang of regret, though he couldn't fathom why.

"Years from now, when you're old and living alone with fifteen cats, you're going to remember this moment as the biggest mistake of your life."

Remus turned to glare at the redheaded desk clerk standing behind him.

"Right now I think my biggest mistake was becoming friends with you. Also, I'm a dog person."

The woman rolled her eyes. "I'm serious. Life's fragile. You need to stop running, or you're never really living."

"How poetic. Remind me, what was it James said when you asked him out? Oh, that's right, you haven't asked him yet."

She scowled. "Fine, don't take my advice. But don't come crying to me when that man gets married and decides to stay here during his honeymoon."

:-:

Remus decided the hotel was unbearably boring without Sirius' interference after one day. After a week he'd taken to planting himself in the break room and browsing celebrity magazines on his tablet for hours, which was how Lily found him exactly one month after Sirius' departure.

"Guess who I just checked in," she said, plucking the tablet from his hands and tossing it onto the couch across the room.

"Is Madonna back in town already?"

"Sirius Black, genius," she said, hitting him lightly with her clipboard. "He's in room 213, like always."

Remus spent the rest of the day seated at the front desk, nervously fiddling with pen caps and fixing his tie while he waited for Sirius to come downstairs and resume his flirting.

It was almost seven by the time he finally emerged, looking even more handsome than Remus remembered. He plastered on a huge smile but it was wasted when Sirius walked right by him without a glance.

"Mr. Black?" he called, hurrying after the actor.

Sirius' face lit up in one of his goofy grins when he finally spotted Remus and he stopped to allow the concierge to catch up.

"I know it's been a while, but don't tell me we're reverting to last names," he teased.

"No, no. I was just surprised you're back so soon."

"Yeah. The play thing didn't really work out, and I missed London." Remus already knew this from Sirius' latest interview. "Anyway, I was just off to get some dinner. I would invite you, but I distinctly remember your aversion to leaving the confines of this lobby with me."

Remus blushed. "It probably wouldn't be a good idea. I'm still working, after all."

"How unfortunate."

"But I've been thinking. I have some vacation time saved up. I was thinking of going to France, or maybe somewhere tropical."

Sirius smiled. "St. Lucia is always beautiful."

"Right. Well, I was wondering if maybe you would – if you had the time, I mean…" He took a breath to calm his nerves. "Fly away with me?"


End file.
